FAITHFUL FRIENDS WHO ARE DEAR TO US
(A Sequel to "Anywhere You Are" and "Midnight Train to New Orleans")
The story so far:
"I'm sorry, Kitty. I never meant to let the badge dominate my life. It just sort of happened. And then, after a while…well, after a while…it just got bigger than I was, and I couldn't give it up. But I swear I've always loved you, Kitty. It's just…just…"
"I know, Cowboy, I know." She reached across him to turn out the lamp and stayed there, nestled against his chest, feeling the steady, comforting beat of his heart beneath her own.
Denver, Cheyenne, Laramie—it made no difference. Her wistful dreams of long ago were replaced by the stark reality of the present. She had agreed to go—God only knew where—with this man. She knew she'd never have his ring, never have his name, but she would always have his heart. And that was all that mattered.
******
Once the decision to accept Gifford Pinchot's offer of a job with the Division of Forestry was made, Matt and Kitty's remaining days at the Kansas House Hotel in Wichita were a flurry of telegrams and activity. Although the weather was still relatively mild on the prairie, the middle of November had passed, and snow had fallen several times at the higher elevations. However, the Union Pacific was still maintaining its regular schedule into the mountain towns, and Matt was fairly confident that if all went well, they could reach Wyoming in time for the Christmas holidays.
"Oh, Matt, can you believe it?" Kitty's sapphire eyes danced with love and happiness. "Our first Christmas in our own place…after all these years."
"Well, now…not so fast, Kitty. I didn't say we'd be settled in our own place. I said I think we can be in Cheyenne." He smiled at her happy face and pulled her against his side. "There is a difference, you know."
She rose on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I know, but that's my dream and I bet we can do it. Lila Chatterton seems so sweet, and she's looking at houses for us. Can you imagine? The governor's wife house-hunting on our behalf? They really do want you in Wyoming! You know, she's been wiring me nearly every day about something new that she's seen.
And you're excited, too; I know you are. You didn't stop grinning for two days after the wire came from Frank Reardon saying he was accepting your offer and would meet you in Cheyenne about the eighteenth. And I've seen you bent over those maps, studying trails, looking at boundaries. Don't tell me you're not eager to get there, too."
"I am. I'd feel better if I'd hear something from Festus and Quint, though."
She squeezed his waist and teased, "You know, Matt, if you had friends who lived in real towns, in real houses, with real addresses, it might be easier to locate them."
He looked down at her, his expression a mix of amusement and acknowledgment. "Maybe so, but then they probably wouldn't be my friends," he answered, a slight edge to his usually gentle voice.
Keeping her arm tight around his waist, she moved back just far enough to look up into his face. "Matt, I didn't mean…sounds like we need to talk." She took his hand and led him to the damask covered sofa in the sitting room of their suite. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. I…it's just that things are moving so fast, I'm…" His voice trailed off.
"Having second thoughts? You don't have to do this, you know. It makes no difference to me if you have some important and official sounding government job or if you're driving the milk wagon through the streets of town. I'm in love with you, Matt, not your title."
"I know that, Kitty, really I do, but…"
"Matt, if you're not sure about this job, or about the move, you don't have to do it. Honest, honey, it's all right."
"It's not the job, Kitty…or the move."
"Then what…is it…is it me?Do you have doubts about being with me?" Her heart broke at the thought that he might say 'yes.'"
His hand was still clasped in hers, and now he held on so tightly she could feel the large garnet stone of her ring cutting into her flesh. "Never, Kit, never."
She struggled to flex her fingers and he loosened his grip and raised her hand to his lips. He lifted troubled eyes to hers. "I'm sorry, Kitty. I'm just not sure I'll be any good at this house thing. I…I need to go out for a while," he said softly and walked out of the suite.
******
Stunned and puzzled, Kitty sat on the sofa for several long minutes, his words resounding in her ears. 'I'm just not sure I'll be any good at this house thing.' It made no sense, and she knew there had to be more to it, something he would not, or could not, share with her. Long years of experience told her that if she waited, it would come.
She passed the long afternoon reading and re-reading the wires from Lila Chatterton and a copy of the Rocky Mountain Star that Lila had thoughtfully sent. She pulled out the letter she had been writing to her cousin Charlotte—a follow-up, really, to the earlier letter she had sent to Charlotte's husband, Ira, telling him that while she would not be returning to New Orleans, she wished to maintain her half-interest in The New Orleans Lady, their jointly owned floating gambling palace docked at the foot of Decatur Street. The letter to Ira had been strictly business in nature, but this one to Charl was deeply personal. She had started it the day before, and the opening lines were light and happy and filled with joy and plans for the future. Re-reading them now, she sighed as she dropped her head on her hands and fought back tears of confusion and doubt.
The room grew dark and chilly, but she didn't bother to turn on the lamps or to stoke the fire. She was deciding what to do about dinner—order room service or eat a solitary meal in the hotel dining room, not that she felt like eating anything at all—but a cup of hot coffee would be both warm and comforting.
When she heard a key in the lock, her heart leaped, but she was determined not to run to the door. He stood on the threshold looking embarrassed and uncertain. "I'm sorry, honey. It's just that you're so excited about having a house and I…I'm not sure I know what to do with one…how to live in one." He took a hesitant step toward her and she held out her arms. "I mean...for a lot of years I never even stayed in one place very long…and then, in Dodge, I…'home' was a cot at the jail. And your room, of course. I…Kitty, I haven't lived in a real house since I was ten years old. I'm not sure I even know how."
They ordered sandwiches and coffee from room service and sat by the fire, just holding each other. She was certain there was something he still wasn't telling her, but she chose not to push it.
******
"MOMMA!"
The panicked, strangled voice jolted Kitty out of a troubled sleep. Surely she couldn't have heard what she thought she heard.
"Momma, please…get up, momma, please!"
She had heard correctly. She opened her eyes to find Matt sitting upright in bed, chest heaving, his big body drenched in sweat.
She rose to her knees and knelt behind him on the bed, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his damp back. "Matt, honey, it's Kitty. You're having a bad dream. You need to wake up."
"No…no, Momm..." He jerked awake. "Kitty?"
"Yes," her lips brushed against his back. "It's me, Cowboy. It's all right. You were dreaming."
He sat there, shivering, allowing her to hold him.
She draped the quilt over his trembling body. "Want to tell me about it?"
He shook his head.
She eased him back into a prone position and pressed against his side, holding him close, murmuring assurances as he worked to calm his breathing and relax his body.
At long last, he spoke. "Kitty, did I…did I say anything?"
"Well…yes, but I'm not sure…."
"What did I say, Kit?"
"You said…well, it sounded like 'Momma,' but I couldn't be sure."
He shuddered again and rolled away from her, his breathing again becoming fast and irregular.
"I could be wrong, Matt. Maybe I misunderstood."
He didn't respond and she lay there, holding her own breath and waiting to see what would happen next.
Finally, he rolled onto his back and spoke into the darkness. "Kitty, I told you I haven't lived in a house…a real home…since I was ten years old. We lived on a farm—not a ranch, just a little farm with a couple horses, a cow and lots of chickens. After my father died, my mother talked about moving into town, but we never did. It wasn't easy for her with just me to help, but we were all right."
He paused to gather a breath and she reached for his hand.
"This was a three story house—not big, but three floors, and I had my own little hideaway space at the top. I could look out the attic window and see sky and those West Texas plains for miles and miles. Moses and King Solomon and I spent all our time up there, playing and…"
"Hold on a minute, Matt. I hate to stop you, but who are those people?"
The tension left his voice a bit. "Not people. Dogs. Nothing fancy, just mutts. My mother knew her Bible by heart, and all of the pets and farm animals were named after Biblical characters. Except Tortilla, of course." He almost chuckled. "We even had an old rooster named Methuselah."
She squeezed his hand. "And that would explain Matthew, too," she mused. "I'm sorry I interrupted; go on."
"One evening I was doing my school work up in my little hidey hole and…and I guess I fell asleep. When I woke up, the house was..."
His voice began to quiver and his big body began to tremble again. She rolled against him and caressed his bare chest with her hand.
"It took a minute for me to realize that it was on fire. And when I did I, I screamed for my mother and started to run down the stairs. The smoke was really thick, and I couldn't see and part way down I…"
He shuddered again and worked to control his breathing. "I…stumbled and f-fell. I thought I had trip-tripped over…over…one of the dogs, but…"
Kitty could feel his heart pounding beneath her palm. She had an all too clear image of what had happened and she tugged him into her arms. "Shhh…you don't have to go on, Matt."
"Yes…I do." He pressed his face into her neck and choked out the rest of his story in the sanctuary of her arms. "I had…fallen…over my…my mother's b-body. She…Kitty…she died trying to…to get….to me. I c-couldn't help her…couldn't save my mother."
She laced her fingers into his damp curls and held him close, cradling his head to her breast and whispering quiet words of assurance and absolution. "It's all right, Matt. You were just a little boy. It wasn't your fault, baby. It wasn't your fault."
Finally, his emotion spent, he lifted tortured eyes to hers. "My mother was a good person, Kitty. I was just a kid, but I know she was a good woman—decent, kind, gentle…"
"I know that, too, Matt."
He looked at her, puzzled. "How…"
She smiled tenderly and kissed his brow. "I know her son. And I love him very much."
He returned her smile with a shaky one of his own and burrowed into her warmth, falling into an exhausted sleep.
******
When Kitty finally opened her eyes, late morning sunlight played on the bedroom walls and she was alone in the bed. Concerned, she slipped into her emerald green robe and matching slippers and walked through the suite to the sitting room. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Matt stretched on the sofa, freshly bathed and shaved, bare feet extending from beneath his new tan pants, blue shirt casually half-buttoned, sipping coffee and perusing the newspaper she had left on the desk the day before.
"Morning, Cowboy."
He lowered the newspaper and gave her a genuine smile. "Morning, honey. I'm sorry I gave you a rough time last night."
She moved to the sofa and sat on the edge, cupping his cheek in her palm. "Seems as if you're the one who had the rough time. You feeling better this morning?"
He tossed the newspaper to the floor and pulled her against him. "Yeah, I'm all right…thanks to you."
He kissed her, gently at first, and then more and more passionately, taking her hand and guiding it over his muscled chest and stomach to just below his belt buckle. "I'd be happy to show you just how all right I am," he grinned.
She sighed and reluctantly pushed herself up from his chest. "I hate to turn you down, Cowboy, but I have a fitting at the dressmaker's in an hour."
He groaned. "So you're saying you'd rather have a new dress than…."
"Uh, no, that's not what I'm saying, but I do have an appointment with Mrs. Hutchins." She kissed him again and stood. "Meet me about one at the Sunflower Tea Room—you know, on Spring Street?"
He nodded and grinned. "And could I schedule an appointment with you for later this evening—say about eight or so?"
"Indeed you can. In fact, I just might be able to fit you in earlier," she smirked as she spun away, only to return seconds later. "Seriously, Matt, will you be all right by yourself for a few hours? I wouldn't leave you, but I honestly have nothing in my wardrobe appropriate for a Wyoming winter, and I should have a few things before we get there."
"I'll be fine. I have work to do." He nodded toward the maps and charts spread out on the table and kissed her tenderly. "And thanks, Kitty—for everything."
******
When Kitty walked into the Sunflower Tea Room, Matt was already there, looking large and out of place in the frilly yellow and brown environment. He stood as she approached the table, towering over the mostly female clientele. "Everything go all right at the dressmaker's?"
"Well, sure, what could go wrong?"
He shrugged. "As if I would know?" He seated her and moved around to the other side of the table, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a thin sheet of yellow paper. He waved the telegram in front of her. "Guess who," he grinned.
"Festus? Quint? It's not nice to tease, Matt. Tell me."
His grin turned into a full smile. "It's from Quint; he says he'll be in Cheyenne before we are."
"Oh, Matt, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for you. Now if you could just find Festus…"
"I heard from Newly, too. He's sent Johnny Ronniger into the hills to look for him. Hopefully, by the time we stop in Dodge, there'll be some word. How soon will those dresses of yours be ready?"
"Two days. We can leave any time after that."
"Great. I'll get us tickets on the Friday morning train." He took a swallow of coffee. "So, have you picked out a house for us?"
She hesitated a moment and then spoke. "Matt, if it's going to be uncomfortable for you…"
He smiled and reached across the table for her hand. "It'll be all right, Kitty. Honest. Everything will be fine."
She rubbed her thumb along the back of his hand. "In that case, when we get back to the hotel you can help me choose a house. I've narrowed it down a bit, but I wouldn't make a decision that important without you, you know."
In the suite that evening they looked at the newspaper pictures and read and re-read Lila Chatterton's descriptions and comments on the various houses she had visited on their behalf.
"Don't they have any small houses?" Matt asked as he looked at the huge gabled Victorians and the turreted Tudors that seemed to be the preferred architecture in turn-of-the-century Cheyenne. "Kitty, we'll rattle around in those big places like the Ghost of Christmas Past," he added, referring to a reading of the Charles Dickens' story they had attended at the McBride Theatre two nights before.
She rested her head on his shoulder. "They are big, but I've been thinking…"
Her voice trailed off and he couldn't resist asking, "Should I be getting nervous?"
She snuggled against him, brushing her lips against his neck. "Only if you keep making remarks like that. Seriously, Matt…I've been thinking that with Quint and Frank there…and hopefully, Festus…they're all going to need some place to live, and it's not as if any of them has a lot of money. Now I don't want to turn into Ma Smalley or anything, but what about a big house with space for all of them…all of us?"
"Hmmm…go on."
"Well, look at this one." She picked up one of the many wires the governor's wife had sent. "Lila says there are twelve rooms plus a kitchen and two baths. If "the boys" each had a room, that would still leave a bedroom for us, a guestroom, a best parlor, a dining room, a sitting room for me, a library or study for your things…"
"Yeah, for all my worldly possessions," he muttered. "I don't need a whole room, Kit; a drawer in a desk will do me just fine."
"Maybe you don't have worldly possessions, Matt," she pressed her palm over his heart, "but what you have in here is far more valuable than all the wealth in the world…especially to me. Now, can we forget about houses for a while? If I recall correctly, you scheduled an appointment with me for this evening."
******
Early Friday morning they boarded the Union Pacific for Cheyenne. A two hour stop in Dodge City allowed just enough time to collect the money Newly had recovered from Matt's attackers, and to say good-bye to Hannah and all the friends who gathered in the Long Branch once again to see their "Marshal" and his lady embark on their new life.
Hannah wrapped her arms around her friend. "You look happy, Kitty."
Kitty smiled, her eyes bright. "I am happy…a little scared, but so very happy."
"No need to be scared, honey. Everything will be fine. He's a good man."
Kitty looked across the room at the man she had loved beyond all reason for nearly her entire life and her eyes softened. "He is a good man, Hannah, a very good man."
With final hugs, kisses, handshakes, and promises to visit, Matt and Kitty, with the faithful Buck in tow, boarded the Mountain Flyer, leaving once again the dreary little cow town that had been their home for so many years. Those who accompanied them to the train station stood on the platform and cheered as, at long last, Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell left Dodge together.
The train pushed west and, as the Front Range of the magnificent Rockies rose up out of the flat Kansas plains, Kitty felt a thrill run through her body. Before long, darkness descended over the landscape, the air in the car turned chilly, and she nestled into her cowboy's warmth. "Tell me more about Cheyenne. Lila says it's amazingly civilized, with a library and three newspapers and lots of shops—department stores with the latest fashions and furniture from the east. And it has its own theatre troupe and opera house…she said Lily Langtry and Emma Nevada both performed there on the way to San Francisco." She shivered and pressed closer against him.
He opened his coat and tucked her tight against his side, wrapping the deerskin around her. With his chin resting on her auburn curls, he told her what he remembered of the place that was about to become their new home. "Well, I haven't been there for several years, but the railroad's been a lot kinder to Cheyenne than it's been to Dodge. Cattle barons and wealthy easterners and Europeans have been spending summers there for a lot of years now. It's a modern city. But you can go a few miles in any direction and see elk and moose. And bear and deer, of course. Hey, I'll take you fishing! Biggest trout you've ever seen in those cold mountain streams. And the mountains, they're incredible, Kitty, 'specially the "Fourteeners."
"And a 'fourteener' would be?" she tipped her face upward.
"Peaks over fourteen thousand feet high. They have snow on 'em even in the summer time." He leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. "I swear I'll do everything in my power to make sure you don't regret this, Kitty."
"Who said anything about regrets?" she whispered drowsily. Then she curled into his big body and went to sleep.
"You need to wake up, Kit. They're serving breakfast, and by the time we finish eating, we'll be almost there."
Kitty sat up, stretching her back. Matt massaged her shoulders. "Maybe we should have gotten that sleeper berth after all, at least for you."
"I'm fine." She stood gingerly to shake the wrinkles from her deep russet traveling suit. "Ooh…maybe a little stiff," she grinned, "but I'll live. How 'bout you?"
"I can sleep any place…years of practice, ya know. And in here I could at least stretch my legs out. Those berths must have been designed by that little guy who claimed he could turn into an elephant…what was his name…Arizona?"
She nodded. "All of that seems so long ago and far away, doesn't it?" Then she slipped her arm through his. "Ready for some breakfast?"
During the night the Flyer hadturned north and the dining car was awash with sunlight glistening off the snow covered trees and mountains. As they climbed higher and higher, Kitty watched in amazement as Matt visibly relaxed, his blue eyes taking on a look of peace and contentment she had seldom seen there.
******
True to Matt's prediction, they reached Cheyenne within the hour, and as the train chugged slowly into the Sixth Street Station, Kitty fairly bounced in her seat as she twisted her neck from side to side looking at the brick buildings that lined the street on either side of the train tracks—Hanson's Hardware, Cromwell's Feed and Grain, Klaus and Son Outfitters, McDonnough Freight Office, Yevteushenko Livery, Paddy's Pub—the buildings went on and on, their signs proudly reflecting the European heritage of the proprietors.
"Look at this place, Matt. There are more businesses in one block than there are in all of Dodge."
Matt chuckled. "This isn't even the main business district, Kitty. This is just a back street behind the train depot. There's an entire city on the other side of that building." He nodded to his left and Kitty twisted again to see what she had missed. "Easy, Kit. We're going to live here for a long time. You don't need to see it all before the train stops."
"Yes, I do, Matt. I need to find the housing office and I need to find a furniture store and…and the hotel…we need to find The Antler Inn."
He stood to retrieve the bags they had placed in the overhead compartment. "You don't have to do everything yourself, Kitty. Maybe you'd allow me to help you? I've always been kind of good at tracking things down, you know."
"Oh, Matt, of course, I want you to help me…I'm just…" Before she could say more, the train came to a full stop and passengers began crowding through the aisle, eager to de-board. Matt gathered their hand luggage and ushered her into the moving line of people.
She paused a moment on the top step, taking in her first breath of Wyoming air. At the same moment, strong arms reached up and swung her down against a hard, muscular chest. "What…put me down you…" She kicked at the man's shins. "Maatt!"
The man stood her on her feet, still holding her in a tight grip against his side so that she couldn't kick him again. "Nice to see you, too, Kitty," he grinned.
"Quint! Oh, my God, Quint! Is it really you?"
He hugged the redhead and kissed her cheek. "It's me. I told Matt in the wire I'd be in Cheyenne in time to greet you." He reached down and rubbed his shin. "You wearing lead boots?"
She hugged him back. "I'm sorry, Quint. I was looking at the buildings and didn't see…" She turned to the big man who had moved in behind her. "Matt, can you believe it? Quint's really here!"
Matt juggled the bags in an effort to shake the hand of his old friend. Finally giving up, he nodded and said, "Good to see you again, Quint."
Quint relieved Matt of two of the bags and quirked an eyebrow in Kitty's direction. "I suppose there's more in the baggage car?"
"A few," Matt answered wryly.
"You two," she playfully slapped at both of them. "Quint, I'm so happy to see you I'm going to let that remark pass…at least for now."
A tall, thin young man in a well-tailored tan overcoat stepped forward. "Mr. Dillon? I'm Willard Cosgrove, special assistant to Governor Chatterton. I have a carriage waiting." He inclined his head toward a matched team of jet black horses bearing the finest tack and a driver in elegant livery. "If you'll just give me your baggage tickets, Justice there will gather your things and we'll be on our way."
"Justice might need some assistance," Matt muttered under his breath as he handed over the claim stubs.
Kitty poked at his side. "Now you stop it, Matt. I hardly have anything with me and you know it." She watched Quint move off with Cosgrove and stepped close to Matt's chest, her face tilted so she could look into his eyes. "I left New Orleans in kind of a hurry, you know, and I sure wasn't planning on a move to Wyoming. I need to ask Charlotte to ship my clothes, the ones I think will be suitable for here anyway."
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry I teased you, honey. But all the paint and powder and, and…stuff…you carry with you to make yourself beautiful amuses me. God gave you all the beauty you'll ever need…both inside and out…a long time ago. Well, not that long ago," he amended hastily.
"Ah, Matt, we've been here only ten minutes and already this mountain air is making you downright poetic. Keep it up and I'll have to kiss you right here in the middle of," she looked around, "well, whatever this street is."
"It's Sixth Street and s'fine with me," he said and bent his head for a quick brush of his lips on hers.
Quint cleared his throat. "Everything's loaded if you two think you can tear yourselves apart long enough to get in the carriage."
As the carriage pulled into the center of town, Kitty's eyes widened at the huge arch of elk antlers curved over the main entrance to the city. And, sure enough, right on the corner of Market Street was The Antler Inn. "Well, I guess I know how this place got its name, but where in the world did they get all of those antlers?"
Willard Cosgrove responded from the front seat. "The early settlers gathered the first ones. You might not know it, ma'am, but antlers, unlike horns, are solid and fall off naturally every year as new sets are grown. So the forests are littered with antlers and now the local people, especially children, continue the tradition of gathering them and bringing them into town—sometimes earning a few cents for their efforts—so the arch is constantly growing."
Before she could respond, Justice brought the carriage to a halt in front of the hotel and Cosgrove climbed down saying to Matt, "Just one moment, sir. I'll have a bellboy get your bags."
Kitty turned to Matt, "I can't believe it. This place looks every bit as civilized as New Orleans." She pulled her wool cloak closer around her. "Only a lot colder."
Quint rode up behind them on horseback. "Some place, hunh? I've been here two days and don't think I've seen the entire city yet. And I can tell you, Matt, I've seen enough different department stores and little shops to keep this lady from getting lonely while you're out looking at boundaries."
Kitty answered quickly. "Not a chance, Quint. There aren't enough shops in the world to keep me from getting lonely when Matt's away."
******
They once again settled into hotel life, and the next week was a whirlwind of activity for both Kitty and Matt. Frank Reardon arrived two days sooner than anticipated, and while Matt, Frank and Quint were busy during the day meeting with Governor Chatterton and his staff on the forest conservation project, Kitty spent her days with Lila Chatterton looking at the four houses still remaining on the original list of a dozen. And in the evenings they had leisurely dinners together and crawled into bed to love each other and talk and plan for the future.
"Kitty, I swear it doesn't matter to me which house we live in. Whichever one you like is fine with me."
"But I want you to love it, too. It's going to be our house, Matt, not my house that you just happen to live in."
"Oh, it'll be ours all right. You choose it and I promise I'll leave my boots in one room and my hat in another and my shirt in another and my pants….give me two days there and I'll show you just how much I can make myself at home in our house."
She giggled against his chest. "All right; all right. I believe you. I'll make a decision tomorrow. And I'm so glad Frank and Quint have agreed to live with us. In fact, I'm leaning toward the place on Spruce Street—the brick one with the private entrance on the side…it's almost like having a separate little house, and they can come and go whenever they want without our ever knowing."
He slid his hand down her back. "And they'll be farther away so you won't have to be quiet when we…well, you know…and you're screaming my name."
She pushed against his chest. "Me? ME? I won't have to be quiet! Look who's talking about making noise. Some of those groans of yours could wake the dead."
"I seriously doubt that, Kitty…they'd never me hear over you. And anyway, you're the one who causes me to groan like that." His hand moved lower. "You know, I'm thinking we could settle this right now with a little demonstration, and we'll just see who makes the most noise."
She straddled his hips in an instant. "Let's go, Cowboy. Win or lose, this is going to be one hell of a contest."
******
Kitty was determined to celebrate Christmas in their new home…their first home. She shopped tirelessly for furniture to supplement the pieces Ira was shipping from her house in New Orleans. With Lila Chatterton's help, she found an army of reliable workmen to do necessary repairs and cleaning women to wash windows and floors and to polish chandeliers and mirrors to a spotless shine. She designated rooms as parlor, dining, sitting, library and guest, and supervised the placement of furniture, most notably a huge brass bed for the master bedroom, reminiscent of the one she and Matt had shared for so many years above the Long Branch.
Miraculously, the work was completed by December 22nd, and the house, if not completely finished and furnished, was more than presentable and livable. She sent Matt, Frank and Quint into the forest to cut down a tree. While they were gone, Kitty and Bridey, a housekeeper on loan from Lila, strung popcorn balls and gingerbread men. And a final trip to one of the small specialty shops yielded candles and brightly colored glass baubles to decorate the tree.
By the afternoon of the 24th, all was in order for the evening and the mouth-watering aromas of a rich pea soup, brisket of beef roasted with carrots, celery and onions, potato croquettes and mushroom gravy wafted through the house.
A few days earlier Matt had asked, "Are you sure you don't want to invite the Chattertons and some of the other folks we've met?"
"I do want to invite them…I have so many kindnesses to return. But not right now. We'll have plenty of time for our new friends in the New Year, but if it's all right with you, I want this Christmas Eve to be special, just for us and our oldest and dearest friends."
Now, she swept through the rooms one last time, straightening a picture frame here, re-arranging a holly bough there. As she climbed the stairs to bathe and dress for the evening, she couldn't help but reward herself with a satisfied smile.
******
As the street lights came on outside, Bridey lit the lamps inside, turning them low to cast a soft glow over the rooms.
Matt, Frank and Quint had used a portion of their advance salary to indulge Kitty in her fantasy, and were sporting new suits and fresh cravats and looking very handsome as they stood near the roaring fire sipping whiskey and talking. All three looked up when she carefully descended the polished stairs, and Matt's heart literally skipped a beat as he watched her, the epitome of elegance and loveliness in a forest green gown of the softest velvet, cut square and low in front with wide insets of creamy lace at the décolletage and wrists. It had just a hint of a bustle and the skirt draped smoothly over her hips and thighs and flared to a ruffle effect of the same cream-colored lace around her ankles. Her auburn curls were swept high and unadorned. Teardrop pearl earrings, a long ago gift from Matt, dangled from her ears and a single strand of matched pearls circled her throat. And the sparkle in her sapphire eyes lit the room.
Matt moved to her side as she reached the last step and, still mesmerized, bowed low over her hand. Turning his back to the other men in the room, he raised eyes filled with love to hers and whispered, "You're always gorgeous, but never have you looked more beautiful than you do tonight."
Hidden from view behind his large frame, she tenderly touched his face and whispered back, "That's because I've never been so happy, Cowboy."
Frank Reardon found his voice first. "C'mon, Matt, you're not going to monopolize the most beautiful woman in the room, are you?"
"As a matter of fact…I am," Matt turned back to his friends and grinned.
Frank, too, bent low over her hand. "You are a vision, Kitty."
Bridey announced that dinner was ready and Quint took her arm. "May I escort m'lady to the table?"
Kitty laughed. "You know, you two are good for a girl's ego. I think I'm going to like having you around."
"Yeah, should be loads of fun," Matt groused playfully.
The conversation around the table was light and they were half-way through the main course when the first notes of "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" sounded in the distance. As the carolers drew nearer, those inside moved to the door, listening to the clear voices and watching the snowflakes falling in the lamplight. As the carol ended and "O, Little Town of Bethlehem" began, a carriage pulled up in front of the house and two men got out, paying the driver, reaching for bags and coming up the brick walkway.
Matt pulled Kitty close against his side. "Look who made it in time for Christmas."
Kitty squinted into the night and then broke loose from his arm, throwing herself at the bewhiskered man. "Festus…oh…Festus. It really is you! Where did you come from? And Newly. I know I just saw you in Dodge, but I'm so glad you're here, too."
They reached the porch steps and Festus looked at Kitty. "Miz Kitty, yore 'bout the most looksomest sight these ol' eyeballs has ever saw."
"Ah, you always could turn a phrase, Festus," she said with another hug and a kiss on his scruffy cheek.
"Uh, perhaps we could go back inside where it's warm…and not snowing," Matt suggested. Kitty turned to him. "You don't seem surprised…you knew all along they were coming, didn't you?"
He put his arm around her again. "Only since yesterday. Newly sent a wire saying they'd be here this afternoon. I didn't know how to delay dinner without arousing your suspicions, so I just told Bridey to have two extra plates ready in case they made it."
Once inside, the reunion continued with everyone hugging and talking at once while Bridey set two additional places at the table. The hungry newcomers quickly caught up with the others and as everyone finished dessert and lingered over the wine, Kitty pushed back her chair and stood. "I'd like to propose a toast." She raised her glass to Frank and Festus, Newly and Quint. "To our oldest and dearest friends. Thank you for coming here to work with Matt and to be with us in our new life. Newly, I know you're just here for a short visit, but Matt told me what you said to him back in Dodge, and I'd like to thank you for being the one who kind of made all of this happen. And let us never forget those not with us on this beautiful Christmas Eve—my dear friend Maria," she smiled tenderly at Frank and then turned to Newly. "And Patricia. I didn't know her long, but I know she was a special person. Louie…and sweet Sam and Doc—dear, wise Doc. I love and miss them all. And I love you, too."
As she finished, Matt rounded the table and gathered his lady into his arms. "I don't have Kitty's way with words, so I'll just say no man ever had better friends than the four of you."
******
It was well after midnight—the early hours of Christmas Day—when Kitty slipped out of Matt's arms and crept into her sitting room. She opened the desk drawer and took out the letter she had started back in Wichita to her cousin Charlotte. Once more she read the opening lines:
Dearest Charlotte,
I cannot begin to tell you how happy and excited I am! Matt and I have kissed and made up—I mean that quite literally—and all that was old and familiar and wonderful is new and exciting and magical once again. It's as if the twelve years we were apart never happened.
He recovered from his injuries and I was on my way home. Believe it or not, he actually chased down the train and jumped on board to stop me. Well, not to stop me, exactly, but to be with me. He was willing to live in New Orleans just so we could be together. I couldn't see him being happy there, and if he was miserable, I knew I wouldn't be happy either. So we got off the train in Wichita and talked seriously about a future together—something we had never done before.
The first morning we were there, Matt ran into an old friend and a series of events led to his being offered a job with the United States government, working with the Department of Forestry. He will be based in Cheyenne, Wyoming, working directly with the governor's staff on a federal forest and land conservation program.
Now my sweet cousin, I fear you will frown on this, but I am going with him to Wyoming. I know that's not the proper thing for a well-brought up southern girl to be doing, but I'm entirely too old and experienced in the ways of the world to care what is proper or what others think.
I love him, Charl. You know what it is to love a man—you have Ira. I've seen the way you look at him, and all of the feelings and longings you have for your husband, I have for Matt, and I intend to spend the rest of my life in his arms.
The letter ended there, and Kitty recalled the last time she had looked at those words, the day Matt had walked out of the hotel suite in Wichita saying, "I'm not sure I'll be any good at this house thing.'' The incredibly painful childhood memory he had revealed to her that night, choking and trembling in her arms, had brought their hearts and souls together in a way they had never been before, for he loved her enough, trusted her enough to share that most intimate, personal part of himself with her.
She smiled softly as she folded the creamy stationery and once again tucked it into the desk drawer. Tomorrow she would finish the letter with mundane chatter about the house and the strange melding of the frontier and the future in this western town—the electric lights and street cars, the elk antlers, the Indian ponies alongside the finest thoroughbreds, the pristine beauty of the mountains that surrounded them. But tonight her heart was overflowing with love and joy and her eyes shimmered with happy tears as she slipped back into the bed and nestled again into her cowboy's waiting arms.
The End